


Not All Mountains Are Tall

by MaskedCyborg



Category: One Piece
Genre: (Nother chapter btw), His smile is the sun, Luffy is short, M/M, This is way when they first met, Zoro deeply appreciates that.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-10-24 13:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10742211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedCyborg/pseuds/MaskedCyborg
Summary: Zoro is a mountain, doomed to fall.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I made this at 5 pm half awake and delirious. I saw it later, finished it, and now it's here. If people want more I'll probably add chapters, but I won't know unless you tell me.

They say the tallest mountain started as stone.  
  
And he can assure you, that this is true. Mountains were once volcanoes, and volcanoes were once barren land and a pebble. Mountains can crumble, and so can people.  
  
And at that exact moment, that's what he was. He was a hill that thought it was a mountain, held together by luck and carefully placed rocks, doomed to collapse. He was strung up like a puppet, arms out and legs left uncuffed, all because he accepted a challenge that he couldn't do.  
  
Surrounding him were walls, sealed blank grey stone walls, taller than himself and 12 feet too far. "Three weeks," he remembered that nasal snicker arising in his head. "And the town will be saved." He grimaced. Nobody could make it 3 days, let alone 3 weeks. But it was his mistake.  
  
Mountain's can crumble, but they can also be rebuilt.  
  
A small head popped over the too far away wall, grinning and crawling over it hazardously. A man appeared before him, wearing a blank face that radiated warmth and happiness. He held out his hand, and despite being restrained like somebody waiting to be hanged, for it to be over with, my hand twitched. "Let's get you out of here," he chuckled. He sounded like he hadn't had water as long as he had.  
  
The man cut off the puppeteer's strings, and his wrists ached along with the new-found freedom. This man had no reason to untie him from his future of death, but he did. Every signal in his brain told him to run away, that this man was much too powerful to trust, and yet he was so small. Almost the heighth of a 8th grader. So thin and bright, smile ten times brighter than the sun, truly blind to look at. He squinted.  
  
He stumbled; one foot forward, almost falling over the next, but he wouldn't dare let himself need to be helped on something as simple as walking. The world tilted to the left, staying still but  his head felt like it was spinning faster than the speed of light. He coughed and his throat ached. He got caught off balance, stumbling, right foot on the left, left on the right, a blinding smile and a laugh from the eighth grader, and the world went dark.  
  
Mountain's can collapse, and so can people. But mountains can also be rebuilt.  
  
And so can people.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry I kept you waiting.

When he woke up, gasping and eyes widening at a familiar chuckle bouncing around in his head, he was on a boat.   
  
It was hot; unbearably so, the sun beating down on him, no sail to block it out, no wind to blow it away. Dead on the sea. He was sweating, it was seeping into his back that held tight bandages around him. Holding him together even if he didn't need to be held. It was hard to breathe, he was choking on getting oxygen into his lungs, getting the O2 out, breathing, breathing.  
  
He's alive.   
  
He knows this, because he can feel the shaking in his core. Can feel the gentle rock of the unfamiliar boat beneath him, the sound of the waves lapping at it. He can feel the vibrations of his fingers gently tapping the dried wood beneath him, real. This is real. The bandages around his waist remind him of his past; of protecting the innocent people in the village from getting eaten by rabid wolves and a rich idiot, of getting starved and beaten, same hot sun beating down on him every day until he reached his breaking point. The laughter echoes in his head again. It wasn't Kuina's. Her laugh was less vibrant, always snarky and knowing. Knowing of everything. On the worst days, he could barely remember it. The laughter was scratchier, more boyish- a strawhat. Red and bright. Brighter than the sun. He remembered blacking out.   
  
He didn't remember getting here.  
  
He sat up, despite the painful clench of his gut, looked around. The sea was still blue; dark, hazy if he stared too deep into the depths of it, and the sky was even bluer. A neon contrast to the sea, with no familiar puffy white clouds in sight. The sun was still too hot. It's summer, he reminded himself. That was why. He looked around the boat. His gaze caught with another boys.   
  
It was the same one, he remembered, with that laugh that left him speechless. That dazzling grin with white teeth, rare, with black hair that seemed brown in the sun, curling on a few of the tips. Wide, wide eyes. Not surprised. Just pure. His hat still had that red brand, he still had that red shirt. His arms were slightly defined, which put him slightly on edge. "Where am I?" He croaked, his voice scratching at his throat painfully, making him sound groggy and gravelly. It's How he felt. The man handed him a wooden mug, filled with water. He gladly gulped it down; relishing in the ease of the water on his tongue.   
  
The guy smiled. A shi shi shi. "My boat!" He exclaimed, rocking with the tilt of the boat as a breeze picked at the waves before disappearing. It was small -- and in his opinion, cramped -- but it was a boat. there were two barrels in the corner, one probably water and the other a little bit of food, and there was a stray of rope on their small mast that most likely was there to hold the barrels during a storm. He hoped there would never be a storm - but he knew that wasn't likely.   
  
"Your boat," he tried out with his voice, words rolling in his mouth, "And why am I here?" He asked. He felt hesitant, like something was wrong; like he should pull out Wado and slice the kid's head right off. But he didn't. No man should have to have a headless body at the bottom of the sea; and it felt wrong, or worse, anyway.   
  
"Because, I wanted you to join my crew!" His smile grew brighter, somehow, all teeth and cheek. He wanted to.. hold him. The realization sunk in.   
  
"You're a pirate?" He said, trying not to sound alarmed. Although it was probably the most ideal thing to do right now, pulling out Wado still left a bitter taste in his mouth and tight knot in his gut. Too wrong. The strawhat hummed in response.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He hesitated. "....And you brought me." On your boat, he said, unfinished.   
  
"Yep!" The boy exclaimed.  
  
An uncomfortable silence layed between them, and his gaze drifted back up to the sky. It brought a gulp of nostalgia into his lungs, infecting his heart and his memories quickly. The sky hadn't been this shade of blue since the day he met Kuina, and never so clear either. A slight breeze picked up, and it felt nice when it cooled his face. He closed his eyes and absently rubbed the salty sweat off his forehead and decided that even if he said no, there was no outcome where he didn't join the kids' crew without dying. He was too weak, the bandages around his mid-section proved it. He breathed, and with closed eyes he smiled.   
  
"Alright, captain."


End file.
